


Welcome

by icandrawamoth



Series: Whumptober 2019 [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 01:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Cere takes care of Cal when he first comes aboard theStinger Mantis.





	Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> For Whumptober day five using alternative prompt number ten, "nightmare."

By the time Greez gets them away from Bracca, away from the Inquisitor, the Jedi boy who had identified himself as Cal has finally managed to bring himself to sit – nervous and tense on the edge of a seat, still gripping his deactivated lightsaber. He's shaking like a leaf, and even with the Force, it's difficult for Cere to tell if it's adrenaline or simple fear and shock. Her money is on an even mix.

He looks exhausted, too. His eyes keep fluttering before he forces them back open, darting them all around the cabin and over to her. She knows the feeling all too well: unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar place. Not knowing if you're truly safe or just fallen into another sort of danger.

“Cal.” His head jerks in her direction, wide hazels eyes stoking a motherly instinct she hadn't thought she possessed, knowing she'd never be one. “We have spare bunks. Get some rest; you look like you need it.”

“I-” Cal begins, then hesitates. His fingers spasm on the hilt of his weapon, and he squeezes his eyes closed. Cere has a moment to wonder what she's going to do if he starts crying before he drags himself together and looks at her again. “I have questions.”

Cere nods. “You already know the basics of who we are and why we helped you. I can answer anything else now while you're dead on your feet and not likely to actually take much of it in or after you've had time to rest and recover. The answers aren't going to change in that time nor am I going to be any less willing to give them.”

Cal bites his lip, clearly at war with himself.

“There should be a medpac in the refresher, too. You took quite a hit out there.” She would feel bad for her gentle insistence when the boy is clearly in no shape to fight her if it didn't look like he needed the caring so badly. “Our setup is simple, but if you're hungry, I can get you something to eat as well.”

“Some painkillers would be nice,” Cal admits, gingering shifting his injured leg. “I'm not hungry, but thank you.”

Cere stands, pointing toward the corridor. “'Fresher is straight through there, crew quarters to the left. Top right bunk is Greez, bottom left is me, but you're welcome to either of the others. Make yourself at home, Cal. I'll be in the cockpit if you need anything.”

She turns to go, smiling as Cal quietly thanks her again. “You're welcome.”

“You get the kid settled in?” Greez asks as she drops into her seat beside him.

“As much as I could.”

“Jumpy little thing,” Greez comments. “Though I guess I can't blame him what with the murderous Imperial agent and near-death experience and everything.”

“Very charitable,” Cere deadpans. She's only half-listening as the rest of her checks in on Cal. His sense is easy to find in the enclosed space of the ship, radiating unease and pain, both physical and emotional. Cere wonders if he's always been this bad at keeping himself closed off or if his openness comes from his strain and an acceptance that he can be himself here. Some of the pain eases as he finds a bacta shot. A few moments later, a flood of relief as he sinks into a bunk. Satisfied, Cere lets him be for now.

When she comes back to herself, Greez is raising a fuzzy eyebrow. “That'll never not be weird, you know.”

Cere chuckles. “You signed on for weird when you agreed to get mixed up with a Jedi.”

“Former Jedi,” Greez counters, “or so you said at the time. So much for that.”

Cere shrugs unapologetically. “I can't hide forever, Greez. We can't. The galaxy needs Jedi. Look what's happened since the Order fell.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Greez mutters. “So is this taking in strays going to be a regular thing now?”

“I'll keep you posted. We run into another Cal, I'm certainly not leaving them to die.”

“Jedi,” Greez scoffs, though far below it, there's fondness. “So _noble_.”

Cere half-smiles as she leaves the cockpit again, drawn by a feeling that's been growing in the back of her mind while they talked. It grows stronger as she approaches the _Stinger Mantis_'s crew quarters and activates the door.

Cal has taken the bottom bunk to the right of the door. He's asleep but not resting, tense face pressed half into the flat pillow as he twitches and whimpers in distress. He'd draped his jacket over himself when he'd laid down, but it's been tossed aside in his restlessness.

Cere can only imagine the nightmares that plague this boy. He might see today, the friend he'd risked himself to save only to lose them anyway. The life he'd been building for himself gone in an instant. Or before that, to Order 66, watching friendlies turn on each other and everything he'd ever known burn. Even earlier, the Clone Wars themselves. He's so young, and what has he seen in that time?

Cere's own dark memories threaten to pull her in, but then Cal cries out, jerking on the bunk, agony in his face. She knows what to do.

Cere sits carefully on the edge of the bunk and reaches out a hand – not to touch, merely to concentrate. Gathering the Force around her, she allows it to connect them, linking Cal's mind to hers. Not deeply, not closely enough to see the images that haunt him, but just enough to discern the vague, dark shapes of them. In another part of his mind is a smaller area of soft brightness, good memories and positive thoughts. She tugs at them gently, nudging Cal's sleeping mind toward something more restful. She can feel him calming around her, and she returns to herself, sees that he's relaxed against the sheets, the tense lines of his face gone slack.

“Should you have done that?”

Cere manages not to startle at the quiet voice in the doorway. “Shouldn't you be flying the ship?”

“We have autopilot functionality for a reason.”

Cere sighs as she draws Cal's jacket back over him and drapes the bunk's thin blanket over his legs. “He deserves rest after today, not nightmares. It was nothing invasive; I just helped him ease away from them.”

“Hmm,” Greez says. “I'm betting you wish you had someone to do that for you.”

Cere's silence in the only answer he needs.

“You're glad he's here.”

Cere looks down at the sleeping boy, suppressing the urge to fuss with his covers. That protective instinct is back, warring with the danger she knows she's about to lead him into.

“For a long time I thought I'd never see another living Jedi, Greez. So, yes, I'm glad he's here. It's nice not to be alone.”

She expects a jab about her discounting his company, but he bypasses it and goes for, “Two Jedi, then. Double the trouble for me. Yay.”

Cere smiles as she looks up at him. “You may be looking at the rebirth of the entire Order with the two of us.”

“Oh, stars help us. It _is_ a good thing you've got me on your side.”


End file.
